One fine day in downtown

Or Fiction from the twisted mind of the Cap'n

"I like your ring."

"Huh?" I looked across at the man standing next to me, looked down at the ring on my left hand, then back up at the man. "It's my wedding ri...", the words tapered off as I stared down the barrel of the gun in his hand.

"Give me the fucking ring!" he yelled.

"I like your gun," I said. "Is it a Glock, or a Smith and Wesson?"

"Huh?" he said, confused, momentarily looking down at the gun in his hand. He looked up to see me stepping in towards him. I reached for the gun, twisting my body as he fired a round at point blank range, then my hands closed on the blistering hot metal. Who knew that a gun could get so hot after firing just one round?

I ignored the burning in my fingers and twisted the gun around and up and in a heartbeat the situation had changed and the gun was now pointing at him and it was his turn to look down the barrel.

I'd closed my hands over his so his hands were still wrapped around the gun and his finger was still on the trigger.

"I suggest you let go," I said calmly. "If you fight for the gun it's going to go off, and you'll get shot."

"FUCK YOU!" He screamed. For a second he pushed against me but just for a second, for like I'd said the gun exploded, along with the back of his head, and just like his brains all the fight went out of him.

I let go of his hands and the gun and stepped back as his body collapsed at my feet. I was feeling a little light headed myself, after-effects of the adrenaline rush, I figured. Rather than fall down I sat down and listened to the wailing of sirens that was getting closer and louder. In the heart of downtown the police were never far away, and within seconds a Black & White screeched to a halt with one wheel up on the curb, and two officers leaped out, their guns drawn and pointing in my direction.

I stood up and held out my empty hands, trying to be as non-threatening as possible, which can be tough when you're standing over a dead body.

"He tried to rob me," I said. "We struggled and his gun went off."

One officer looked at me and lowered his gun. The other ignored me and knelt at the body at my feet. I saw him check for a pulse but he stopped when the second officer, still looking at me, said "Don't bother, he's gone." To me, he added, "why didn't you give him what he wanted?"

"He wanted my wedding ring," I said, holding up my hand.

"How much could it be worth?" he asked me.

"My wedding ring? Priceless! Sentimental value and all that."

"What about your life? What value would you put on that?"

"Well, that's priceless too, of course."

"So you traded one for the other?" he asked me, sadly.

"Huh?"

He gestured to his partner, still kneeling at the body at my feet. I looked down at his partner but he wasn't looking back at me. He was looking up at the second officer.

I looked back at the second officer, too. "I don't understand."

"Look again," he said.

I looked down, this time at the body at my feet...my body...at my feet. The front of my body's shirt was soaked in blood.

I looked up at the second officer. "But...I..."

"I'm sorry," he said. "But you're dead. You traded your life for a wedding ring."

"Guess I wasn't as good at dodging bullets as I thought," I mused.

Then I noticed a speck of light out of the corner of my eye, growing brighter and brighter. The officer and I turned to look at it. The other officer just looked at his partner.

"How's it going?" he said.

"Good," replied the second officer. "He's been good; he's getting the light."

"Cool," said the first officer.

"Only I can see you," said the second officer, looking at me. "Or hear you. My mother was a witch, so was my grandmother, and her mother before her. I got the sight from them. You're lucky you're getting the light. See, the dark's got him." He gestured to the ground and I looked and saw my would-be mugger's body, covered in black ant-like specks. His dead body appeared to be glowing but the dark specks crawled all over him and they seemed to be eating his body's light because it got fainter as I watched.

"Oh look at that," said the second officer, and I obeyed, my eyes drawn to the speck of light which was no longer a speck but had grown brighter and larger and was now the size of a door. A figure appeared in the light and I watched as it stepped through. Gradually my eyes adjusted to the glare and I could make out the features of its face and my heart leaped, or it would have, if I hadn't been dead.

"Cathy! Oh my God! Is it really you?"

"Hi, Peter," said the voice that now, truly belonged to my angel. "I missed you."

"Oh Cathy," I said, "I missed you, too!"

I don't know how two spirits managed it but we embraced, and the years since death had torn us apart melted away into nothing.

Finally I turned and faced the second officer. I held up my hand, my left hand, which somehow wore a ghost of my wedding ring, an endless loop, a symbol of my never ending love for Cathy.

"I told you it had sentimental value," I said.

"Priceless," was his reply.

I nodded to him, and holding hands Cathy and I stepped into the light and were gone, together.

The dogsh name was Junior!

Or Shades of Indiana!

While strolling back from the local Starbucks I passed a lady I'd passed before (not today, another day, another "before"). I recognized her but I didn't recognize her, because I recognized her dog. It was a little rat dog Chihuahua with a t-shirt. You don't see many dogs in t-shirts around my office, most of them are in buns. So this dog stood out. I passed the dog in a t-shirt and its owner and was waiting for the pedestrian crossing when I heard a voice calling out, "Junior! Come over here! Get over here, Junior!"

I turned around and it was the lady I hadn't recognized calling to the dog in a t-shirt that I had.

The only reason I could think of for calling a dog "Junior" is a maternal fantasy, an unfulfilled desire to be a mother. Dogs might be family but projecting your non-existent child on to them is just scary. Which is a very apt description for this woman. A few hundred years ago we might have burned her, or dunked her in the local pond. Or both. Better to dunk them afterwards though, they don't burn so well when they're wet.

MTV Awards

Or What most people are probably talking about around the Water Cooler this morning?

And it's not who won what award, but, OMG! Did you see Will Ferrell and Sacha Baron Cohen kiss?!?!?

I'll confess, I have not seen either Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for make blah blah blah, or, Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby, which narrowly avoids a blah blah blah of its own for an excessively long title. Will Ferrell has some classic moments, and I've seen some clips from Borat which I also thought were rather amusing, and I'd probably sit down and watch either movie if they were on and enjoy them, too.

I found last night's Kiss (which I think deserves a capital K) and the preceeding interaction between Will and Sacha to be hilarious, and brilliant off-the-wall comedy. By contrast, when Sacha came out to accept his award for Borat (the movie), and he apologized on Borat's behalf (Borat the man/character), I felt his acceptance speech was rather flat, especially coming on the heels of The Kiss (now with a capitalized The ;)

I think a better acceptance speech would have been if Sacha had thanked Will Ferrell, and stage-whispered an "I love you" to him, but while funny that would have had no relevance to Borat (the movie). Borat himself could even have made the acceptance speech, and perhaps Sacha should have gone down that road, instead. Perhaps pre-recording a segment as Borat (in Kazakhastan) then talking with him as if it were live footage. Sacha as Borat's straight man might have been a winner.

Grammer Gods, where are you?

Or And and Or. Which is correct? And when? And why not both?

While writing a letter I created a sentence where I stated that I was forced to choose between two alternatives, essentially I said:
Forced to choose between riding Public Transport for three hours or spending one hour in my car I chose to drive.

Now I tried adding a comma between car and I but it made no difference; in both cases Word's Grammar/Spellchecker insisted there was a mistake with the or. When I hit F7 it told me the correct word to use was and. Which makes sense, but or also made sense to me. I can choose one or the other, right? So why is it correct to use or in the sentence immediately preceding this one, but I must use and in my example?

I'm here, and not there

or Is coping through avoidance really coping? Or just avoiding?

Honestly, I don't know whether it's easier or harder having been here for the last 8 years.

Easier, because I've been living my life for the last 8 years without my father's constant presence, so the only day-to-day difference is that I'll never hear his voice on the other end of the telephone.
Harder, because I never lived with him for the last 8 years, so I never watched him die a little more each day, until at the end perhaps it was a relief to know his suffering was finally over.

In August I return to Australia for the third time since my father's death. The first time was to bury him, and the second time was barely a month or so later for the trip that should have introduced my daughter to her Pop. This time around I'll be walking my mother down the aisle as she marries the new man in her life.

Again, easier, because I don't have to live there and constantly see my mother with someone other than my father?
Or harder, because I was never there with her as she stuck to her vows until Death did her and my father part. So I never witnessed her depression as day-by-day she watched the man she loved slowly die, so I'm also not there now to see the positive changes in her, or share in her joy at finding someone new to love.

In September I will be doing one of the hardest things (I hope) that I will ever have to do in my life. I will have to walk down the aisle with my mother and give her away, essentially let her go to a complete stranger, a man I've never met. I know my mum loves him, I know he has the approval of my sisters and one of mum's closest friends, but that won't make it any easier. But I have to do it, anyway.

Bravery is not about being unafraid; it's about being terrified but doing the right thing anyway. The right thing for me to do is let my mum live her life. It's right to let her live, and not expect her to become a Miss Havisham.

In September I will have to really face the fact that my father is gone and that he's never coming back, and that terrifies me.

Selling Virtual Property

Or how to avoid getting scammed.

So you leveled your WoW toon/s to 80, got him(them) decked out in ZOMG! Epix! Pewpewpew! then you decided you wanted to sell your account and move on to WAR/LOTR (or some other MMO). The classic way to sell your account is via eBay, and contrary to what anyone might try to tell you selling your WoW account is entirely legal and totally allowed by Blizzard's TOS and EULA.

From WoW's EULA, 4.(b) Ownership - You may permanently transfer all of your rights and obligations under the License Agreement to another only by physically transferring the original media (e.g., the CD-ROM or DVD you purchased), all original packaging, and all Manuals or other documentation distributed with the Game;

and Wow's Terms of Use, 10. Security of Login Information - You are responsible for maintaining the confidentiality of the Login Information...

Blizzard give you the right to sell your copy of WoW, and while TOU 7. No Ownership Rights in Account makes it quite clear that you have no ownership rights to your account, Blizzard do make you responsible for the security of your WoW Account Info. Thus you have the right to sell your copy of the game, and you also have the right to provide someone else with your Account information.

BUT!!! (and yes, that's a big 'but') WoW's TOU 8. Account Suspension/Deletion gives Blizzard the right to suspend or delete said Account for any reason (or no reason) whatsoever. I'd say "so don't give them a reason to suspend/ban you" but it's kind of pointless when they don't even need a reason. If you agree to play their game you also agree to let Blizzard suspend/ban you at any time for any reason, or for no reason at all. That's just how deals with the devil work.

Anyway, enough with the legal mumbo jumbo, let's get on with the Guide to selling Virtual Property.

Step 1 - Create your eBay auction, listing it as WoW Online Game, inc. all CDs for both Expansions, manuals, etc, (inc. bonus lvl 80 Character) or something like that. Feel free to list the pertinent parts of WoW's EULA by which you have the right to sell your particular copy of the game as long as you transfer all media that came with the game.

Step 2 - Accept the Paypal payment. Really, Paypal is fine; trust me. If you can get a Bank/Cashier's Check that's ok too, but Paypal is your friend. NEVER accept a Personal Check but if you must, make sure it clears first. Or sell it to a Check Cashing Agency, take the 10%+ hit, and let them deal with the scammer when his check bounces.

Step 3 - Do NOT email the Buyer your Account Name & Password, seriously, and no, you're not trying to scam them either.

Step 3(a) - Use UPS, FedEx, Registered USPS, or any Certified Mail Service which provides a Tracking Number and/or Receipt Confirmation to snail-mail the CDs, Gamebox, Manuals, etc, to the Buyer. Insist on receipt confirmation. Do not email the Account Name & Password to they Buyer (yet). Ignore any threats by the Buyer to leave negative feedback on your eBay Account if you don't email them the Account Name & Password RIGHT NOW!!!

Step 4 - Get confirmation that the Buyer has received your snail mailed items. If necessary, print out this information and keep it in a secure place. This is proof that the Buyer has physically taken possession of the item you sold, and it will save your arse and money in the event of a dispute.

Step 5 - NOW you can email the Buyer your Account Name & Password. Ignore them when they say they can't log in and they want their money back. Try logging in yourself and you'll see they've already changed the password from whatever it was you set it to, and if they didn't change it they're an idiot.

Step 5(a) - Tell them you know they've logged in because they've already changed the password so they should stop being a douche bag, go play WoW and lrn2play.

Step 5(b) - Tell them the Account Name & Password work fine because you just logged in using them, and here they are again in case they typed them incorrectly. Try logging in again and you'll see they've now changed the password. Refer to Step 5(a).

Step 6 - Provide Paypal with evidence of physical proof of delivery when the douche bag tries to dispute the transaction, claiming they never received the item and they want their money back. If you'd only emailed them your Account Name & Password that might have worked and you'd have been screwed, but you sent them a physical copy of the game and you have proof that they received it. Who cares that they agreed to pay $1,000 for a copy of WoW (inc. bonus lvl 80 character)? You sold your account on eBay and avoided getting scammed. You win!

Step 7 - Fire up WAR/LOTR (or your other new MMO) and enjoy.

Step 0 - (Yes, I know this should have been the first step) Avoid screwing over your WoW friends by letting them know you're going to sell your account, remove yourself from any Guilds, and delete all Friends in your Friends List before you provide the buyer with your account name & password.

The Beginning of the End?

Or is House about to jump the shark?

Last night on the season finale Dr. House fired Dr. Chase, while Dr. Foreman and Dr. Cameron handed in their resignation.

Now the show is called House, and the X-Files was not called "Scully & Mulder" but the same principle holds true with House as it did for the X-Files. Hugh Laurie is a brilliant actor and while his dry, sarcastic wit as Dr. House is the icing, it's his interaction with his fellow staff that make the cake. Just like the X-Files fell apart when there was no more Fox Mulder (or very little of him), House would never be the same without its supporting cast. That's not to say the producers couldn't replace one actor at a time, after all, how often do real doctors stick around in general practice? Usually they want to finish their internship and go into private practice as soon as possible. House could survive the loss of one character here, one character there, etc, but for three characters to leave in one episode? That's a serious hemorrhage that would kill any show.

Fortunately the internet scuttlebutt says the three will be back next season. House avoids jumping the shark...for now.

A weekend in Oakland

or how I found myself with wet pants three days in a row.

Thursday I left work an hour early and arrived home at 3:30pm. I took Anzac to the Vet's/Boarding Kennel, and then we were off to Oakland for the Memorial Day weekend. For those not familiar with US geography Oakland is about 10 miles from the city of San Francisco, and about 385 miles from our house. That's about the same as driving from Melbourne (in Victoria, Australia) to Canberra (the ACT), or from London to Edinburgh. We managed to get away a little after 4pm and with a couple of stops for food and gas we arrived in Oakland shortly before midnight. Not a bad run, really.

Friday we slept in, sort of, then joined Liz's cousin Emma at her parents' flat before heading on to the San Francisco Zoo. Somehow we piled Liz's cousin, her hubby Steve, and their two little ones into our Highlander with the four of us. Lucky we have a collapsible third row in which to stuff three of the kids. We finished the day by celebrating Emma's parents' 50th Wedding Anniversary at a local Chinese Restaurant. We'd originally booked a private room but when we realized there was no way the 20+ people who were coming would sit comfortably around the large table (and it was a pretty big table), we moved out into the restaurant's public dining area and secured two large tables for everyone. While in the private room I'd had my daughter sitting on my lap, and when we got up to move I discovered the leg of my jeans was almost soaked through...right where A. had been sitting. Yup. In sort of toilet training her we've become a little lax on the diaper changes, and A's diaper had reached its absorption capacity.

After dinner Steve and his FIL took the BART home while the rest of us somehow piled in to our SUV. We were fortunate that the local Garbologists were doing their rounds at that moment, because they blocked the lane beside us allowing us to stand in that lane while we packed everyone in to our SUV. Liz, myself, our two little ones, Emma, her two little ones, her mom, and an old friend from Shanghai. That's 9 people (5 adults and 4 kiddies six & under) ...in a 7-seater SUV. I don't know how we did it either. Or why we did it. But we did, and we got everyone home safe & sound.

Saturday found us visiting the SF 6 Flags, a roller coaster amusement park...which also includes a mini zoo and aquarium, so it was actually an appropriate place to take the kids even if we never rode the roller coasters. Afterwards we went for dinner at California Pizza Kitchen and right at the end of the meal, as we were packing up our left-over food, Steve knocked over one of the glasses of water Californian waiters feel compelled to bring for everyone and ice-water ran across the table, missed their daughter (who was asleep in her stroller) and ran off the table beside her, right in my lap. I looked down at my left hip and made the observation that I'd just finished two days in a row with wet pants, but at least tonight it was just water.

Sunday we decided to take it easy and we all kicked back at Emma's parents' flat. Lucky her parents had flown off somewhere that morning so we only had 8 people in a 1 bedroom flat. Then it was decided we'd take the kids to a nearby park, it wasn't until I was standing at the elevator that I realized the "we" was Steve and myself. Liz and Emma were staying back in the flat.

The "park" Steve had picked out turned out to be a wilderness park, for hiking, fishing, swimming, etc, but not a decent place for four kids 6 & under to spend the afternoon. Lucky the Ranger directed us back down the road to a park with a playground where we spent the next couple of hours playing, swinging, watching the kids and eating ice cream when the Ice Cream Truck drove by.

When the wind began to pick up and the temperature began to drop, we called it a day, loaded the kids into our car and headed back to the flat to find lots of yummy food in various states of preparedness. The girls had taken care of the bbq ribs, but a kindly old neighbor had also prepared a lot of yummy, traditional Shanghainese-style food. I made myself a cocktail with a lime/tequila drink mixed with Sierra Mist (it was actually quite good) and kicked back on the sofa while the four kids fought all around me. Then Emma's son (the younger of her two) climbed onto the sofa and launched himself at me like he'd been doing most of the weekend. My drink splashed up in the air and came down right in my lap...on my left hip to be precise, in exactly the same place as the water from the night before and the diaper runoff from the night before that. Lucky it wasn't too much of a mess so we got everyone dried up, I poured myself another drink, settled back down on the sofa...and Emma's youngest launched himself at me once more with identical results. This time his older sister was standing right next to me so most of my second drink ended up in her hair. Phew! Emma didn't seem to amused by this though...not sure why.

Dinner, once we finally all settled down, was an uneventful affair, and before too long we were saying our goodbyes and heading back to our hotel. We were planning to get away early so this was our last visit with Emma, Steve and their little ones, this time around at least. After a leisurely Burger King (Hungry Jack's) breakfast JE and I made several trips to the car and finally we were off on our way back home. The trip back went fairly smoothly and we did the run in less than 7 hours. No wonder we almost always need vacation to recover from our vacations, even the short, 4-day ones.

The elusive $2 bill

I got a couple of $2 bills the other day. Rather rare to get these in the U.S. because even though the Federal Reserve claims there are at least 500 million in circulation, most people who receive them tend to hoard them, thinking they're "worth something", and they are, each $2 bill is worth $2. Wow!

I've had a few pass through my hands in the years that I've been here, but I was planning to give these two to the kids until I noticed someone had used a Where's George.com stamp on them, which was rather annoying. Until I discovered that some members of the Where's George crew are actually trying to increase the number of actively circulated $2 bills (something of which I approve) by specifically requesting them from their banks, even going so far as to order them by the Strap (100 notes) or Brick (1,000 notes). Then they stamp them with the Where's George stamp which, in most people's eyes, renders them worthless as collectibles and practically forces future recipients to spend them rather than hoard them.

I was also made aware of a flawed observation of mine that U.S. cash register drawers are not set up to cater to the $2 bill when in fact they are, the drawers are just misused. Because the $2 is rarely seen most cashiers place their $20, $10, & $5 bills in the slot to the right of their intended slot, with the $5 bill occupying the slot meant for the $2 bills. This leaves an empty slot on the left which is then used for checks and coin rolls, or $50 bills which are more commonly used than the $2. I'm not sure how cashiers would handle the change and their register drawers if they began encountering $2 bills on a regular basis.

Actually that's a project (if you live in the States) that you could take on yourself, if you've got a bit of a rebellious streak in you ;) If you frequently purchase your lunch or make some other small, everyday transaction like buying your morning cup of coffee, you could order a Strap of $2 bills from your bank and use them to buy your lunch or coffee instead.

It could even be rather chaotic, initially. Imagine going to Quizno's or Subway where you place your order, they make your sandwich, and then you offer to pay for it...with $2 bills. Most cashiers should be familiar with the $2, but you just might run into someone who hasn't seen them before, and they just might be accompanied by a pimply-faced, squeaky-voiced Shift Manager who also has never seen a $2 bill. And because you're in Quizno's or Subway's your sandwich is already sitting in front of you, so you just need to pay for it. You have your Debit Card on you but they can't force you to use that. In fact you're willing to pay for your lunch, just with disturbingly new, sequentially numbered $2 bills, so the Cashier and Shift Manager have a few choices: they can grudgingly accept the notes (unlikely if they think they're fake); they can ask you for a different method of payment, a request you'll refuse so they'll ask you to leave (possible); they can give you your sandwich for free (doubtful...just yet).

The Shift Manager could also call the cops, but if they do that Store Policy will also require them to call the Store Manager or Regional Manager to report that they've called the cops. When they do that they'll inform the Store Manager or Regional Manager that they've called the cops on a customer who was attempting to pay for his or her meal with several $2 bills, and then they'll get strangely quiet, and go very red, and after they hang up they'll be very apologetic and now there's a chance you'll get today's lunch for free, maybe with chips and a soda thrown in.

The cafeteria at my office is like that. I order the food, the cooks make my food, I take my food to the cashier and pay for it. I could imagine them looking at me funny if I suddenly produce three $2 bills to pay for my lunch, although with the number of customers they serve each day I'd be surprised if they're not familiar with this "rare" bill.

Now when other customers see you using "rare" $2 bills they might think you're crazy to spend them, or even try to buy them from you. Whatever you do, don't sell them for less than $2 each :D But definitely let anyone who asks know that they, too, can order them by the Strap from their bank, especially if they want sequentially numbered bills. They might just do that in order to get uncirculated bills, and then they'll have 100 $2 bills of which they only want to save, at most, $20 worth. You've just recruited them to the cause, because now they'll spend the other $180, and that will get people talking to them about the $2 bill.

It's Fight Club's "Project Mayhem", only a more civilized, less destructive version ;)

A Plumber at 4:30am?

Stumbling in to the bathroom at 4:30 this morning (and boy am I glad I got straight up without hitting snooze several times) I stood on the bathroom mat and immediately had wet feet. Not good. But that's what I get for not checking my handiwork the night before.

Last night I'd replaced the flapper valve and refill/flusher unit in our toilet tank, and hand-tightened the plastic nuts as per the directions, but when you're dealing with plumbing "hand-tight" is rarely tight enough.

Downstairs to the garage I went, got my multigrips, returned to our bathroom, and slowly and carefully tightened the nut connecting the water main to the tank. Then just to be sure I also tightened the nut underneath that holds the refill unit in place.

When I checked water was still slowly leaking out, very slowly, so I tightened the nut a bit more, wiped the hose and again checked for leaks, then tightened the nut a bit more, and so on. It was a slow process that took close to half an hour but eventually I was confident the water had stopped leaking, or at least confident enough to get in the shower. I think everything is good now, but I won't know for sure until tonight when I can check it out over a longer period of time.

Imagine if I'd really needed a Plumber at 4:30 in the morning, instead of being one.

The Longest Night

Saturday JE and I camped out overnight with the Boy Scouts at a local park in the foothills. Apparently the park is fenced in so you're safe from bears and other predatory nasties.

The camp's activities were supposed to commence at 3pm with a 2pm "check-in" time when you'd set up your tent, etc., but with people turning up late the activities started late and the campfire ceremony started late, so it naturally finished late which meant JE and I crawled in to our tent a little before 10:00pm. Not too bad for a Saturday night, except our Saturday nights don't normally find us camping out under the stars (protected by a layer of canvas or nylon) surrounded by young boys playing Uno and adults chatting away. I figured I'd let people play and chat until 10:30 before calling out a reminder that there were other people trying to get to sleep, but I didn't need to. The kids playing Uno were playing in the tent belonging to the talking adults, and the adults called it a night and kicked the kids out and back to their own tents before I needed to enforce my authority (assuming I had any).

Finally quiet reigned and I was able to relax and try to get comfortable enough to fall asleep on half an inch of high-density foam, which is rather hard to do in normal times (is it ever normal to try to sleep on 1/2" of high-density foam) but I've also come down with a nasty sinus cold which only compounded matters. Fortunately I'd come prepared (like all good Boy Scouts and Scout Leaders) with a supply of Sudafed and I'd taken one when we'd first crawled into our sleeping bags so I think that helped me sleep for the first few hours.

Around 2am I awoke and looked at my watch and almost shuddered at the thought of how long it still was until morning. It's not unusual for me to wake several times during the night, but I don't usually wake up with a pain in my right hip from sleeping (practically) on the hard ground. The cold was not an issue, I didn't feel cold at all, but 1/2" of foam does not provide much padding at all. I rolled over on to my left side and tried to find even a small depression to get my left hip in to. I succeeded, somewhat, and drifted off to sleep, for maybe 45 minutes. Woke up to a pain in my left hip, rolled over on to my right side and remembered that hip hurt, too. Lay on my back but it was both comfortable, and uncomfortable. It was some comfort for my hips, but not comfortable enough to sleep, just yet.

Sleep that night was nothing but a series of 30 mins naps until 5:30am when dawn broke and even though the sun didn't penetrate the layer of cloud, the sun's light still did, and light nylon is no protection against sunlight, not even the ambient variety. First came the footsteps, then the voices, and I looked at my watch to see what ungodly hour it was, then looked at JE and noticed he was awake. For the next 20 minutes I attempted to convince him to go back to sleep to no avail. I knew what he had in store for the rest of the day, but so did he; two birthday parties, and a piano recital awards ceremony and there was no way he was going back to sleep, even though he could have used the rest.

Reluctantly I let him get up and we got dressed and joined the other early morning risers. I honestly don't know how we made it through the rest of the day without a nap, but here we are, finally, at the end of a very busy weekend. Thank God I've got work tomorrow!

Six degrees...

Bruce Lee starred in Enter the Dragon. His climactic fight was with...
Bolo Yeung who played the villain in Bloodsport which featured...
Donald Gibb, who played Fred "Ogre" Palowakski in Revenge of the Nerds, which included...
Anthony Edwards who played Goose in Top Gun alongside...
Tom Cruise, who appeared in A Few Good Men with...
KEVIN BACON!!!

It's true ;)

Getting too old for this shit

4:20am - alarm goes off
4:20am - actually get up instead of hitting snooze several times
4:55am - leave house
4:56am - stop at 7-11 for coffee
5:25am - arrive at Immaculate Heart of Mary 35 minutes earlier than necessary
6:00am - teacher arrives to let me in and I begin setting up the Polling Booth
7:00am - Polls open
Approx. 25 people show up throughout the day to vote or just drop off their Mail-In Ballot.
8:00pm - Polls close, begin packing up polling equipment, tallying ballots, etc
8:40pm - finish packing up and loading car. Set off for Collection Depot.
8:45pm - pull up behind a car just sitting in the right lane with no indicators but stopped outside the Collection Depot. Figure the idiot was last in line, now I am...last in line, that is, not an idiot. Turn on right indicator then decide it's not enough and engage Emergency/Hazard Lights just so idiots coming up behind me can see I'm not going anywhere.
8:46pm - idiot pulls up behind me with neither Indicator nor Emergency Lights on.
8:47pm - idiot pulls up behind other idiot. Neither is willing to use signals to inform other drivers that they have no intention of going anywhere.
8:55pm - finally enter gate of Collection Depot but still have several cars in front of me, and a lot of idiots behind me. Some idiots who pulled up at the end of the line and sat there before realizing the idiots in front of them weren't going anywhere roar past then blast their horn, as if it's our fault they're an idiot and not paying attention to traffic conditions.
9:05pm - unload polling equipment, receive receipt and we're on our way
9:20pm - drop fellow poll worker at home in downtown LA.
9:40pm - arrive home, and glad to be there. Feed the dog, kiss the wife and sleeping kids and tell them I love them.
10:00pm - fire up WoW and run around a virtual world pretending to be a Gnome Warrior. Kill a Basilisk that knocks me off my mechanical ostrich as I ride past. Kill a few of his Basilisk buddies that looked at me the wrong way, a truly petrifying experience...for someone other than Zerka! The psychotic Gnome Warrior!
12:00am - crawl into bed after deciding I don't want a black Razr V3xx enough to spend $100 on one.

4:20am - hit snooze
4:27am - hit snooze
4:34am - hit snooze, debate not going in to work
4:41am - hit snooze, debate some more
4:48am - hit snooze, Body disobeys Brain's order to get out of bed
4:55am - hit snooze. Brain kicks Body out of bed.
5:20am - pass 7-11. No time for coffee.
5:30am - catch bus, sit two rows behind Mr. Flip-Flops. Wonder if he bathed recently, perhaps when he was up Mog's way.
6:00am - Get off bus. Brain admits that we should have stayed in bed. Body says, too late now. Body spies a Starbucks. Coffee time!!! Body and Brain finally agree on something.

Using the BMI may not be healthy

Not too long ago we had a health seminar at work, where you could talk to various health professionals about various health issues, and even get your Body Fat Percentage calculated. So I'm 37-years old, 5'11", 205 pounds (a little less, now) and after all the measurements were taken it was determined I had 21.0% Body Fat. My weight for my height meant my BMI was 28.6 and this is where things took a strange turn. At 21% Body Fat, I easily fell well within the "Acceptable" Ranges for Men, being 18 to 25% Body Fat. My 28.6 BMI is a whole different story, but that's because the BMI is as outdated as your grandmother's giant panties, which can double as a duvet in winter. A 28.6 BMI for a 5'11" male is considered overweight, in fact it's bordering on the obese. Anyone who knows me would say there's no way I'm borderline obese.

I'll admit I could lose a few more pounds, but in order for my weight to fall within the "BMI's Healthy Weight" range for my height I need to get down to under 175 lbs. I have not weighed 175 lbs since I was about 15 years old. The really crazy thing with the BMI is I could weigh 140 lbs and I would still fall within the healthy range. Trust me, if my weight fell below 170 it would not be healthy, and even at 175 I'd probably have people wondering if I have cancer.

If you're one of those wirey people with a slight frame the BMI Tables are possibly one tool (of several) you could use to determine how healthy you are. For people with average or large frames feel free to ignore the BMI, and instead know that if you're a woman and your Body Fat is in the 25% to 31% range, that's apparently "acceptable", whereas Men need to stay a little leaner and keep their Body Fat under 25%, if not around 20%.

Tipping

I was leaving a comment on Mike's Blog but it began to turn into a Blog entry, so I figured I'd better post it here rather than leave an essay length comment on his Blog. Besides which, I'd already commented on that particular post of his once already ;)

We just had dinner at a restaurant where they listed on the Menu that parties of 8 or more would be charged a 15% gratuity. So 15% would seem to be the industry average, and I'm ok with that. I'm also ok with just a 15% gratuity being added to the bill. I frequently tip at 15% for average service, but I'll also tip better or worse depending on the quality of service. What I would not be ok with would be dining somewhere with a party of 8 (or more) and receiving sub-standard service and being expected to cough up a 15% tip (or more).

You might be pleased to know that you can, in fact, dispute that compulsory tip if you don't believe the service you received warranted a tip of such magnitude. The law allows the compulsory tip to be legally added to the bill IF it's listed either on the menu, or clearly displayed in the restaurant in a location where it is assumed the "common man" could not fail to notice it. But you can still dispute it. In fact if the restaurant correctly identifies the tip for "parties of 8 or more" as a "gratuity" and not as a "surcharge" and the authorities are called in and you find yourself in court because you refused to pay 15% (or more) for crappy service, there's a bloody good chance you'll win your case. A "gratuity" is provided at the customer's discretion, a "surcharge" is mandatory; see the difference?

If I have a drink that comes with free refills, I expect my glass to never be empty for more than a few minutes. If it does, or I have to stop my waiter and tell him I want a refill, that's poor service. If you make me stop you for a refill consider yourself lucky if you still get 15%. At Denny's or any other breakfast diner I expect my coffee mug to never be empty. Of course I take care of that myself by adding creamer and sugar when I need a refill but that's just so I don't have to tell the waitress to leave room for creamer & sugar, plus when they top me up it automatically mixes the fresh coffee with the creamer & sugar so I don't need to stir my cup, which drives Liz nuts because I like to ring the bell when I stir my coffee.

At a steakhouse that Liz and I dined at with a friend, we'd been working in the yard all day (laying pavers) and had developed quite a thirst. I forget how many Arnold Palmer's we put away during our meal but we're talking at least 5 pints, each. Our waitress was right on the ball and we'd barely drain one glass when she'd whisk it away and return with a fresh one. Excellent service. She got at least a 20% tip if I recall correctly.

I once ate breakfast with about 10 coworkers at The Pantry in downtown Los Angeles We got itemized bills. We also got an 18% to 20% gratuity automatically added to the bill because of our party size. Our waiter never brought out my toast until I reminded him. He needed reminding. He brought everyone toast but me, and showed no sign of bringing my toast either. The Pantry does excellent sourdough toast and it is delicious with orange marmalade and coffee.

Remember what I said earlier about the bottomless coffee cup?

My coffee cup, and everyone else's at the table, sat empty after we finished our first cup. Our waiter never offered any of us refills. Finally someone asked him if we could get a refill. Our separate bills arrived with an 18% tip added on. Half the table got up and paid then hung around outside waiting for the rest of us. Just as we were getting up to pay our bills the waiter arrived, with a pot of coffee, and asked if anyone wanted a refill. Asshole. While paying my bill I tried to tell the cashier I was not happy with the service and did not feel it warranted the 18% gratuity, but she relied on that age old excuse of shrugging her shoulders and staring at me blankly while saying "No comprende, senor."

So, if it's listed as a "gratuity" and you honestly do not feel the service you received warranted the percentage that was automatically added to your bill, you can dispute it. Cross it out and write in what you think is a more appropriate amount and re-tally the bill. Also make sure they didn't tax you on the gratuity, because if they did you will want to work out the tax based on your bill sans the gratuity.

I wish I'd been armed with the knowledge I now possess when I ate at The Pantry and received such crappy service. I'd have crossed off the gratuity amount, retallied the bill and left $1 tip, which is still more than that crappy waiter deserved. What is insane is one of my coworkers who ate with us is a lawyer, and she was unaware of the law regarding gratuities and surcharges, and she didn't offer me any advice...then again, with her being a lawyer, I should probably be glad she didn't. I might have saved a couple of dollars on the gratuity, but spent $20 for the legal advice :P

A quick poll

Hands up those people whose spouse called them at work today because their youngest child had wedged him or herself down the back of a dining room chair? Keep your hand up if you called the Paramedics, from work, because you were the one with the local PD dispatch speed dialed into your cell phone. You get Bonus Points if the Paramedics were forced to cut the cushion off said dining room chair in order to free your youngest child.

*EDIT* added photo


The little lady managed to slide halfway through the gap between the cushion and the lowest rung, and Liz was unable to get her out one way or the other. If you examine the top of the lowest rung on the destroyed chair you'll see two whitish spots on each end. My resourceful wife apparently took to the rung with a saw, but the cherub kept wriggling around and Liz was afraid she'd cut her, so she stopped sawing.

What was I just saying yesterday?
Never underestimate the children :D

Never underestimate the children

The in-laws always did this, and were always amazed when our kids did things that they didn't think they were capable of. Then again, they were also constantly amazed when the kids did minor, trivial things, like the time JE as a toddler found a fridge magnet in the family room and he went and stuck it back on the fridge.

Now it's my turn to be amazed, this time at the different skill levels being displayed by the kids in JE's T-Ball league. Some of the kids can throw the ball ok, some can catch it, some can hit, some have trouble with all three tasks, and some kids excel at all three. Some of the kids have trouble hitting the ball off the Tee and take a few swings before making contact, and some of the kids can hit a free thrown pitch and nail it, first time, every time.

Initially when the T-Ball season started the kids would hit the ball off the Tee and run one base. Then the next kid hits the ball and makes another one-base hit; regardless of whether he gets caught out or launches the ball into the outfield, it's a one-base hit. The only exception is the last batter (each kid gets one hit per innings) who always makes a Grand Slam 4-run homer, regardless of how well he hits the ball.

In the last few games we started pitching to the kids. The first time around they hit the ball off the Tee but in the second innings they were first thrown a few pitches (or maybe just the one ;), and most of the kids did ok. If they missed too many times the Tee was brought up and they hit the ball off the Tee, which again might take a couple of swings.

In the last game none of the kids hit off the Tee unless they couldn't hit one of several pitches. They were pitched to in every Innings but we were pretty generous with the pitches. A couple of kids still had to hit off the Tee, just like a couple of kids never needed the Tee and in fact nailed the first pitch thrown to them. Coach Jessie even had to dive out of the way to avoid getting hit by the ball when these kids were at bat.

One of the boys in particular has a wicked swing, and the coaches of the other teams commented that he was the only kid they'd seen hit the ball clear into the outfield. Other balls made it into the outfield but they were either grounders or bounced once or twice in the in-field. This young fellow (it wasn't JE) would clear the diamond by a good amount and send the other team's fielders scrambling after the ball. He lucked out and was the Last Batter in the first two Innings, which meant he got to make Grand Slam Homers, and he made them legitimately. Both times he drove the ball into the outfield then raced around the bases, making it home before the fielding team could get the ball back in to their catcher to "tag him out".

This six year old boy hits a baseball better than I do. He also catches and throws very well, and he might just be on your television one day, playing Major League Baseball. Never underestimate the children ;)

The miracle of technology

Last week I ordered some new valance clips for our blinds because some of the current clips broke. The new clips arrived yesterday but when I opened the envelope I discovered they were the wrong kind. So I took a photo of the correct clip with our digital camera and emailed it off to the company who'd sent the wrong clips so they could see which clips we needed. Just to be on the safe side, knowing some IT dept's block certain attachments on emails, like pictures, I uploaded the picture to the internet and included the URL in the email.

This morning I had a response from the company that the clip is not one they carry. Now the company which sent me the clip is not the company we ordered the blinds through, but I figured the first company had contracted with the second, so it was the second company, the ones that sent the clips, that I'd emailed.

On the first company's website I noticed a button that said Live Chat. Going with my gut instinct, which told me it was not a button to chat live with sexy singles in my area, I clicked the button and a window popped up that said it was contacting a Customer Service Rep, and shortly a message popped up that said I was chatting with Patricia.

I'd already entered my order number so Patricia said she'd locate the clips I needed and would send some right out.

I told Patricia I'd called last week, had been told the same thing, was in possession of replacement clips, but they were the wrong ones.

Then I pasted the url for the picture of the right clip.

Rather than trying to describe what the clip looked like, I was able to show Patricia exactly what I needed.

Patricia said she was printing out a copy of the picture and would send it to the factory with my request, so hopefully this time we'll get the correct clips.

Through the power of technology, I was able to chat to a CSR and not only let her know exactly what item I needed, but show her, too. Awesome!

Real, or a con job?

What's your opinion? And is anyone fluent enough in Japanese (I think it's Japanese) to know what the commentator is saying? I figure he's just pointing out the obvious, which is very obvious when we see the replay & close-up in the second part of the clip.

New coffee machine

A few years ago when I worked for Jobtrak they had a Keurig coffee machine. I loved this thing. It made you a cup of freshly brewed coffee in seconds. No mess, no fuss, no hassles. When I got a job with The City I missed the Keurig machine so much that I talked the guy running our office coffee club into getting one.

I attended the LA City Vendor Fair a few weeks ago and the Office Depot booth were promoting a Small Office Keurig machine, which is really a home machine. I hooked up with the Rep and before you know it I'd arranged to get our coffee from Office Depot for considerably cheaper than our previous supplier, and we scored one of the Small Office machines for just $1. Bargain! Now the machines are great for small offices, like no more than 10 people. We have approx. 100 people in our office. These machines are totally inappropriate for our level of usage...but they're great for home ;)



When you turn it on in the morning it takes no more than a minute or so to heat the water for a cup of coffee, and is ready to brew a second cup within 10 second of making the first.

Life is great ;)

Authentic Aussie Fish & Chips

In a large mixing bowl combine 1 1/2 cups of self-raising flour and 1 egg. Gradually whisk in 375ml (1 can, or 1 1/2 cups) of a "light beer" until batter is smooth. See, you can't drink the stuff, but you knew there was a reason they made light beer.

Season batter with a dash of salt and pepper, then cover and place in the fridge for 30 minutes.

Heat vegetable oil in a deep fryer (or deep saucepan), then dip two filets of fish (such as flathead or whiting, or my personal favorite, school shark) into the batter to coat and allow the excess to run off.

Deep fry those suckers until they're golden brown and little crispy bubbles have appeared over the batter and you're drooling so stop it because it makes the oil splatter. At least drool down your shirt or something! Good Lord, man! Other people will want some of this and you're drooling all over it!

Remove crispy, golden brown, slightly drooled on filets of fish (shark is a fish so that's an all inclusive phrase...unless you used filets of dolphin. Sicko!) and set aside on paper towel. For authentic fish & chips feel free to use a few pages from the local newspaper, but make sure your paper comes from a printer that bakes the newsprint properly or the ink will come off everywhere, and inky fish & chips are not good. Inky squid or calamari is acceptable, but not inky fish.

While oil reheats dip another two filets of fish (or mammal of choice) into the batter; allow the excess to run off then carefully lower the battered filets into the boiling oil. Did I say earlier to do that carefully? If I didn't, I'm saying it now: be careful! Don't accidentally dip your finger into the boiling oil like I did a couple of weeks ago coz that FUCKING HURTS!!! And it doesn't matter how fast you rip your finger out, it's too late. That stuff is hot and it burns!!! Feel free to yell and scream but try to use unintelligible phrases coz the kids are in the house. Avoid screaming FUCK!!! even though you've just dipped your finger in boiling oil. You don't want to upset the neighbors sitting in the next room waiting for a meal of authentic home cooked Aussie Fish & Chips.

Run finger under the cold tap for a couple of minutes while keeping an eye on frying filets. Remove when golden brown, set aside to drain, then batter one filet at a time while placing boiled finger back under the cold tap. Extremely carefully lower filets into boiling oil, cook to golden brown, remove, set aside, repeat, etc.

Toss in some chips (with the skins still on, for added flavor), fry to golden brown, remove, drain & lightly salt. Place on plates, then serve and enjoy with a frosty cold beverage held in the hand with the boiled finger because Damn! If that icy cold can doesn't feel good against your burned digit, I don't know what does.

Toast the neighbors and ignore the strange looks they're giving you when they think you're not watching. Tell them the yelling was part of a secret Aussie ritual, like when the New Zealand All Blacks do the Haka before a Rugby game. They'll still think you're a weird Australian, but you're a weird Australian who makes bloody good Fish & Chips.

Good on ya, mate! You're a bloody ripper!

Their game, their rules

Last night in the World of Warcraft I was having a bit of fun with my Gnome Warrior, specifically I was being escorted through a mid-level Dungeon by a high-level friend in order to obtain some of the magical Plate armor that drops off the bosses in that dungeon. And we got some, too, with the final Boss dropping a neat Plate Helm.

Then a Games Master sent me a tell. A private, in-game message, like using Messenger or Yahoo Chat. The Games Master is an envoy of Blizzard, a real person in the game who adjudicates issues where necessary. I hadn't lodged a complaint with the GMs, which left one explanation why they'd contacted me, and sure enough, the GM informed me that my Warrior's name had been deemed inappropriate. He was letting me know this because he said he was about to log me out of the game, and when I logged back in I'd be asked to choose a new name for my Warrior.

Now fortunately I was talking to my friend using a VOIP and a headset because I was so shocked by what the GM had told me that I could barely respond to him, let alone type messages to my friend to keep him appraised of the situation. Now I reckon the GM must have been tagging along with us, invisible & invincible, and he was lenient enough to let us down the final Boss and get the Loot before contacting me. The GMs do have powers that make them virtual Neos within the WoW world, and this one's timing was too impeccable to have been mere coincidence.

Within seconds of receiving his message I was kicked out of the game. I promptly tried to log back in and was met with a screen I'd never seen before.



WoW! Pun intended. He wasn't kidding. For some reason someone found the name Knuttjob objectionable, and complained about it, and I've been forced to change it. Now I have a choice, I don't have to change it, but if I don't then I cannot log in on my Warrior. In case you're a puritan and you're getting the wrong idea, a nutjob is a crazy person, a nutter, someone who is, essentially, nuts. When I role play Knuttjob he is one crazy little Gnome who refuses to back down from a fight no matter how outmatched he might be. He's nuts, plain and simple. With me being an officer in my Guild, the Knocturnal Knights, it made perfect sense to gname my gnome...er...name my nome...no, that's not right either, it made perfect sense to call him Knuttjob.

I haven't renamed the little fella yet. I filed a protest with Blizzard but I doubt it will change anything, after all, it's their game, we have to play by their rules. Sucks, though. I like little Knuttjob.

Public Service Announcement

Sunchips® are a yummy, healthier alternative to potato chips (or crisps) and now, for a limited time only, the makers of Sunchips® will donate 25¢ to Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer Foundation every time someone buys the pinkish bag of Sunchips® and "registers" the special code at Sunchips®.com

The Quizno's Affair

Heh. Sounds a bit like a Robert Ludlum novel ;)

I had lunch at Quizno's today, which normally I'd enjoy, and I did enjoy the sandwich but that's not what today's entry is about.

Quizno's, if you're not already familiar with it, is a toasted sandwich chain. At the start of the production line your sandwich is loaded with the meat of your choice, on the bread roll of your choice (white, wheat, etc), with the cheese of your choice, then passed through a toaster oven. When it comes out the other end you then get to add your choice of toppings, lettuce, onion, pickles, olives, peppers, etc, well, normally you do.

Today my sandwich emerged and I figured it was my sandwich because I was pretty much next in line, but the lady removing the sandwiches from the oven just tossed in some chopped lettuce, like she'd done with all the sandwiches before, then handed it to the guy next to her, who wrapped it and passed it on to the cashier, who called Next!

I ignored the cashier and stood there in front of the woman.

Next! called the cashier.

Again I ignored him.

Small Parmesan Turkey on Wheat? said the cashier, which was my sandwich.

Oh, I said to him, in staged confusion. Is that my sandwich? You guys don't add extra stuff any more?

The cashier looked at me, now his turn to be surprised, for real.

I wanted pickles and olives, I explained, but the girl never asked me.

The cashier took my sandwich back to the guy who'd wrapped it, who asked what else I wanted. I repeated that I wanted pickles and olives, and again said the girl never asked me.

Yeah, I was being a bit of a bastard, but I could have been a right bastard. Remember I said the girl had tossed in chopped lettuce, like every other sandwich before mine? If I'd been a right bastard I would have said I hadn't wanted lettuce. Then kicked up a fuss if the guy had tried to scrape off the existing lettuce instead of making me a fresh sandwich, from scratch. Now I don't mind a bit of bunny food, but it was added without my being asked. What if I hadn't wanted lettuce? Like the absentee pickles and olives, I hadn't been given a choice.

First day on the job or not. Busy lunchtime crowd or not. I don't care. Make sure the customer is getting what they want. Don't assume, or the customer might just be an asshole.

Learning from VA Tech

I've refrained from commenting on this, mainly because my comments are not that which would "go with the flow", but I've decided I'm going to speak up anyway.

I'm very pro-gun. I see these shootings not as excuses or wake-up calls that we need to tighten gun laws or remove guns from society, but as wake-up calls that we need to be more aware of our fellow man (& woman), we need to become familiar with the signs that someone might be building up to become a "shooter", and we need to be willing to step in and get involved (by alerting the appropriate authorities) if we do suspect a shooting is a distinct possibility in the near future.

In 1996 Martin Bryant allegedly shot and killed 35 people in Port Arthur, Tasmania. I was living in Australia at the time, self-employed as a gardener for various clients, including an elderly lady from my church who lived on her family farm just outside town. One of my self-appointed duties was to cull the rabbits that were tearing up her property, so with my client's permission I'd visit her property late in the evening and eliminate a few of the rabbits with my trusty shotgun. After the Port Arthur incident the Aussie government decided shotguns like mine were dangerous (and they were, as many a rabbit found out) so they implemented what they called a Buyback plan to buy back a majority of privately owned firearms. Essentially confiscation with compensation. Despite many, many guns being removed from the public, shootings still occurred. There hasn't been another "Port Arthur" incident since, but that's not surprising considering that in Australia's 200 year history that was the only one of its kind. What has happened though it that a college student legally gained access to a handgun (an extremely highly regulated firearm in Australia) and shot several of his fellow students, while another fellow got hold of a sword, again a highly regulated item in Australia, and ran amok stabbing people.

Easy access to guns does not facilitate these kind of activities. Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold had several plans for obtaining firearms, and were apparently willing to obtain them through illegal channels if necessary. George Weller didn't even need a firearm to kill 9 people in Santa Monica in 2006.

Then there's Joel Myrick, who was the assistant principal of Pearl Middle School in Mississippi in 1997, when Luke Woodham shot and killed two girls, one of who was his girlfriend. Luke then shot and wounded 7 other students before starting to cross the road to the Junior High School where he claimed he intended to shoot more students. That was when Myrick finally returned after running 1/4 mile to his car and back to get his legally owned and stored handgun. Myrick prevented any further deaths by holding Luke at gunpoint until the police arrived.

The anti-gun people like to say a law is worthy if it saves just one life. Using their logic, the law that allowed Myrick to legally own and store a handgun in his car is also worthy. Lives were saved that day because a private citizen was armed. That's enough proof right there that guns save lives. I only need to reference one case because it's all that's needed.

The truth is if someone is determined to get a gun, they will. If someone is determined to kill someone, unless they're stupid, it's almost impossible to prevent them from doing so.

I'm getting better, but life still has its moments

Not too long ago I wrote a post about coping with the loss of my father, and how I felt I was at a turning point in the grieving process, and I was right, I was, but life still has a way of creeping up on you and while I'm learning to deal with the loss of my father, that doesn't mean I'll ever be over his passing.

Today I was in Bestbuy getting a new car stereo installed, which took 2 hours so I had plenty of time to kill. I was browsing the DVD section when I saw a tin of John Wayne movies, 15 of them, for $15. My Dad loved John Wayne movies, so this is totally something I would have bought and sent home for him. Life is...was...still is full of those moments, where I'll see an item that I know my Dad would appreciate, but life has changed because now there's no point buying those little gifts. But that doesn't mean I don't see them and still think how much Dad would have liked it.

So in the car on the way home I was listening to my new, favorite Country station, which I thank Xinh for finding for me, and a line from one of the songs that was playing as I pulled into the drive of our house went "I took a swing at my father one Christmas, never dreaming it would be his last."

Well I never, ever took a swing at my father, because there's a damn good chance if I'd ever done that it would have been my last Christmas, but when Mum & Dad's Christmas card arrived a couple of years ago and I opened it and looked at their signature I started crying, because a tiny little voice inside of me said that it would be the last time I got a Christmas Card from Mum and Dad, and it was right; that was my Dad's last Christmas on this earth.

If you only take home one thing from this Blog, let it be this: When you see a little "something" that you know would make a perfect gift for a loved one, buy it for them, and give it to them straight away. Fill your life with happy moments that you can fall back on when the sad moments threaten to overwhelm you.

My 2¢ on Lord of the Rings Online

LOTRO is another MMOG in the vein of Everquest and WoW, and last night I got access to the beta version. The real game will be released in a week or two if everything goes to plan, but for now you can get a taste of things-to-come.

I rolled a Hobbit Minstrel and spent a few minutes messing with his facial features. I gave him blue eyes, sandy blonde hair, and a smattering of freckles across his nose and upper cheeks. I was going to go with a scar on his chin but I figured everyone would go with a scar (you have a choice of several) and it's hardly noticeable anyway. The character creation screen seems more versatile and open than WoW, but essentially it all boils down to very similar things. You've got a choice of Face1, Face2, Face3, etc, eye color depending on which hue you click on in the color box, likewise hair color. Hair style, like faces, is a choice between Style1, Style2, etc.

What might be more interesting for character creation would be the ability to alter the shape of your toon's nose via a slider bar, then their chin, then the size of their mouth, then their cheeks, etc, but that's getting beyond a simple review of LOTRO and into the realm of dream features for MMOGs in general. Overall the character selection screen seems to offer a lot of variety and choices to make your character unique, so you're not just another face in the crowd. It's a pity that all of the changes you're making will be on the side of your toon that faces away from you, and thus you'll hardly ever see the work of art you spent 20 minutes creating.

Out of the gate my first encounter was with a Dark Rider. Actually I saw him riding by but from the LOTRO Lore the sight of the Dark Rider was enough to give me a WTF??? moment.

I'm a brand spanking new lvl 1 Hobbit and you're throwing Dark Riders at me???

With only one way to go I followed the path taken by the Dark Rider and as I walked along Pow! I took damage from...something. I didn't get attacked by anything, it was like I stepped on a trap and just took damage. Further on in the game the same thing happened, while walking along a path I took random damage for some inexplicable reason. Perhaps if I'd found the combat log it might have told me what happened, but meh, I just kept walking. Around the bend and down the road I spotted the Dark Rider yet again and knowing how bad arse they are I stayed well back and looked for a way around him, but the hills alongside the path were too steep to climb and the brush was too thick so I bit the bullet and slowly moved forward.

The Dark Rider was interrogating another Hobbit and I overheard the last of their conversation and basically the game is set around the time of the scouring of the Shire. You can't play Frodo or Aragorn or anything like that, but I'm sure people will still try to play them, although they may play a part in the future of the game. After the Dark Rider rode off I met up with the Hobbit. He told me we needed to escape and that he'd unlock a nearby door while I kept watch. So I kept watch while the Hobbit tried key after key in the door.

It wasn't until I spoke to him again that he "found" the right key. After that we moved through a series of doors and mob encounters until we met up again with the Dark Rider, now with three henchmen. One of the henchman ran off to do the Dark Rider's bidding, and then the Dark Rider spotted us. As he rode closer his two henchmen moved up to attack us when arrows from the nearby woods rained down, killing the henchmen and driving away the Dark Rider. Thank God, coz I was still just a level 1 Hobbit Minstrel. After a brief bit of dialog with my rescuers the introductory scene ended and when the next chapter loaded I found myself in a new town filled with activity. Lots of activity. Real people (like me) were running around (or at least toons controlled by real people), talking to NPCs (toons controlled by the computer) and completing various quests, and I promptly joined them.

Coming from WoW the gameplay and controls are very similar so it was very easy to just jump in and start playing, although I did need to remap my Strafe Left & Right keys, and Invert the Mouse's Y-Axis. When I use my Mouse to look around I think like a Pilot. Pushing Forward on my mouse should dip my view down, much as a plane would dive if you pushed the yoke forwards. This means if I jump into a lake and start swimming, I'm literally "flying" in the water. When I push forward on my Mouse my toon will dive, and when I pull back on my mouse my toon will "climb", and this makes perfect sense to me. I actually did a bit of swimming last night and I loved the fact that my Hobbit did the Front Crawl stroke (often mistakenly called Freestyle) while swimming on top of the water. In WoW most toons tend to swim Breaststroke...ok, I'm generalizing. My Dwarf swims Breaststroke while my Elf puts his arms by his side and kicks his legs like he's a dolphin; maybe the Humans swim using the Crawl, I don't know, I hardly play Humans. So the swimming technique in LOTRO was very realistic and looked really good and I was greatly impressed.

Running around the countryside, on the other hand, was terrible. My Hobbit leaned over at the waist and ran moving his arms and legs, and nothing else. His body and head stayed rock solid in a slightly bent over position that did not look natural at all. The characters in GTA:Vice City, WoW, Mario Bros, (almost every game I can think of) they all run in a realistic looking fashion, my Hobbit did not. It was not horribly obvious but it was something I kept noticing, each time I glanced at him, which detracted just a little bit from the game. How are you supposed to empathize with your character and get into the game when your avatar doesn't move around in a realistic manner?

While character movement seemed stilted, actual navigation of the countryside was made a breeze by a very detailed Minimap. It showed things such as vendors and quest givers...although the people I needed to talk to in order to finish my quests seemed strangely absent. They were in the game, they just didn't appear on the minimap, at least not that I could see. The intro area initially seemed overwhelming but once I'd done a couple of the "Kill X of Y Mobs" quests, or "Gather X of Y herbs" I'd become reasonably familiar with the zone and had little trouble finding my way around. Unlike WoWs seamless world, LOTRO's Inns and Stores are instanced, but load times (at least on my PC) were very quick. Open a door, step into the portal and a second or two later you're inside the building. Open the door, step into the portal, and a second or two later you're outside again. Not painful at all.

As I ran around I figured I'd concentrate on quests rather than grinding, and this appears the smart way to level in LOTRO anyway. I'm sure you get more XP/kill for a same level mob in WoW than you do in LOTRO, but then the XP needed to level in LOTRO seems to be less as well, at least for the initial levels. One quest asked me to kill some pigs and bring the meat back to the quest giver. After collecting all the meat I needed I killed one extra pig, but I did not feel compelled to grind out the XP I needed to level, or even just kill piggies for some "bonus" XP. Just completing quests earned me substantial XP and I leveled reasonably quickly anyway. I also loved that LOTRO shows you the vendor prices of your loot. In WoW I need to have a 3rd party program installed to see how much an item will sell for. In LOTRO they tell you, which makes choosing between two Quest Reward Items, neither of which you'll use, very easy to make. Usually I could use one of the items, but I think once or twice I completed a quest with no useful reward, so knowing which item would sell for more more money was a big plus.

At level 5 I earned the privilege of being able to add a title to my name. Because I hadn't died on my journey to level 5 I could choose to display myself as Bilimac the Wary, which I thought was hardly fair. One quest had my lvl 4 Hobbit take on a lvl 5 Pig and here's a definite difference between WoW and LOTRO. In WoW, a lvl 1 Toon taking on a lvl 2 Mob is a foregone conclusion. The Mob is going down. Most Toons in WoW should be able to take on two Mobs their own level, or one Mob a couple of levels higher than them, and know without a doubt they're going to be successful. This lvl 5 Pig had me worried and I was casting spells as fast as I could, only being a Minstrel my "spells" were Ballads that buffed & healed me while damaging my opponent. It didn't help that as a Minstrel I can currently only wear cloth armor which offered little protection against the razor sharp tusks of my foe. Fortunately a couple of people who'd turned up to kill the Pig as well joined in but it was still touch & go and even with their help I finished the fight with about 1/4 of my health remaining. Oddly enough I was actually concerned I would be defeated by the Pig. In WoW I was never worried about dying, and while LOTRO has a very lax Death Penalty, I'm still determined to advance as far in the LOTRO Beta as I can without dying once. I think it's also that I knew the Pig was a tough opponent so I did not relish coming back for a rematch if he defeated me.

So I was reluctant to add the title "...the Wary" to my name because my Minstrel had not been a cautious fellow or shied away from danger. Fortunately I had a second choice, being the addition of a "family" name, and so I became Bilimac of the Fallohides which matches both my appearance and the class I chose. I'm a fair-skinned, blonde, Minstrel, all of which are traits of the Fallohide Hobbits. Apparently if I can make it to lvl 10 without dying I can become Bilimac the Undefeated, but again that probably describes more of a cautious, wary player so unless something better comes along at 10 I shall remain Bilimac of the Fallohides.

A big change from WoW was less of the Kill X of Y Mobs quests. There were a few of them, don't get me wrong, but it never seemed like I was on a treadmill, killing mob after mob after mob. Rather many quests had you running around, exploring the zones and talking to people. You can do those one of two ways. The fast way, "Shut up already and give me my reward!" or the slow way, where you read what they have to say and immerse yourself in the game world. There are also delivery quests that are quite different from what WoW has to offer. Delivering Pies for a baker I cannot get into combat or the pie will naturally get ruined when I'm forced to defend myself, nor can I swim across rivers, Pies do not like water, for some reason. I also have to avoid Hungry Hobbits. Not all Hobbits are hungry...ok, they all are, but there are certain Hobbits labeled as Hungry, and they're the ones to avoid. There are also Mail Run quests, again where you cannot get into combat or swim across rivers, but this time you need to avoid Nosey Hobbits. Get too close to a Nosey Hobbit or a Hungry Hobbit (if you have Pies) and you fail the quest. These quests are also timed so it's not like you can take the long way around but you still need to give these interfering Hobbits a wide berth. Cutting through someone's front yard was not enough, as I found out trying to avoid a Nosey Hobbit on the path, and I failed that particular Mail Run quest. All of these quests serve to introduce you to the game world and make you feel like you're part of something real, and it's a definite change of pace from WoW's typical Kill 10 Rats quests.

As I completed quests I acquired new items, both from the Mobs I slew and from generous citizens grateful for my help, but as the Quest Reward items were generally better than anything I found on defeated foes, I never felt compelled to kill Mobs just to see if I could get some good loot. Of course we're still early in the game. In WoW, especially at higher levels, it's not uncommon to spend literally hours killing the same Mobs in one area over and over and over again for the cloth, money, and items they drop. By the time my Hobbit was level 5 I'd acquired a hat and some shoulder pads (armor) as Quest Rewards. Such items are not available in WoW until lvls 15 or higher. More pieces of armor, hats, etc, serve two purposes. More armor obviously helps to keep you alive longer, but it also helps to give your character a slightly more unique appearance. Of course two Hobbit Minstrels completing the same quests will most likely choose the same Armor, so you might still end up looking very much like every other Minstrel out there, but when I found a green pair of gloves with the same armor as my current gloves, but which sold for less, I promptly equipped the cheaper gloves and sold the more expensive pair. I also picked up a pair of ear rings and a bracelet which I was able to wear and which showed up on my Hobbit, so there are always choices to make that can individualize your toon.

I have 1 more week to play the Beta at which time the game goes live and I'll need to buy a copy of the game if I want to continue playing. Given that I don't know anyone who's going to play LOTRO, and that an MMO is really a social experience and is a lot more fun with friends, and given that there's still so much for me to do in WoW, I currently cannot see myself buying LOTRO, yet. If I had several friends who I knew were going to play I might give up WoW and join them in LOTRO, as two gaming subscriptions is not something I'm prepared to take on just yet. Although chances are if I was going to play LOTRO I'd probably do the $200 Lifetime subscription. Pay once and play forever. I like that option.

Overall I liked what Turbine have done with the game. There was just enough LOTR Lore thrown in to make you feel like you really were in Middle Earth, and once I got out of the lowbie area and entered the Shire, a considerably larger zone with many more Hobbits running around, it really was like the book come to life...which is sort of like being a part of the movie. I think Turbine have a winner with this one.

KCET & McDs

I took JE & his Tiger Cub Scout buddy "W" for a tour of the local KCET Studio yesterday. We lucked out in getting in on that. I called them asking about tours because the boys needed to do a tour of a TV Studio or Newspaper Office to help earn their Tiger Cub badge. The first person I spoke to said they didn't do tours anymore, but she transferred me to a fellow that she said might be able to help and I guess I hit the right chord with him because he said to shoot him off an email and he'd see what he could do.

So I sent him an email and never heard anything back, and was thinking I'd have to write off the KCET Tour and do a tour of the local newspaper office instead. Then last week the guy called back and said he could do the tour around 10:30 this Sunday, so 10am found me and JE picking up W and we were off to west LA and KCET.

We arrived around 10:45 and after chatting with the security guard out the front who called our guy to verify we were ok to be there, we were in. I got a couple of pictures of the boys next to the "Welcome to KCET" sign then our guide arrived to show us around. We got to see pretty much everything inside KCET, the editing board, the recording studio, a green stage room, and a stage where a game show was being filmed while we stood watching in the wings. It was pretty cool. Afterwards I got a picture of the boys standing under a Sesame Street street sign.

With the boys complaining they were hungry (in fact they'd been complaining before the tour started) we were off down the road to the closest McDonalds where I ran into the McDonald's cashiers from hell. Ok, not really their fault. They were obviously new. But that excuse has a very short expiration date.

I ordered two Happy Meals, one with a plain Cheeseburger, and one with six pieces of nuggets.

Wait, slow down, said the cashier.

Dude, I didn't order that quickly, and what's so hard to understand about two Happy Meals, one with a plain Cheeseburger and one with a six-piece of nuggets. Ok, technically the Happy Meal with the six-piece is a Big Kids Meal, but seriously, that wasn't a complicated order...unless you're new on the job, like my guy.

He finally got my order right after two other employees came over to help, one of which was the Shift Manager, but I still had to explain several times that I wanted two Happy Meals, one with a plain Cheeseburger, and one with the six piece of nuggets.

Now W is a rather peculiar child. He doesn't like ketchup (or catsup...or tomato sauce) with his fries; he likes ice cream. Last time I took JE & W to McDs for lunch I relented and bought him a small vanilla shake...wait, that was the first time we ate at McDs. So W had his ice cream and he was dipping his fries in and eating them, and I'm ok with that. I prefer a chocolate shake for my fries but some like chocolate, some like vanilla. Then disaster struck. W knocked over his shake which naturally ran out all over the place because you can't have the lid on your shake if you're dipping your fries.

The second time we ate at McDs W was drinking his milk from those cute little bottles they have. Like JE, he was using a straw. Unlike JE, who'd lifted his bottle off the edge of the table and held it down low so his straw and bottle were mostly vertical, W just tipped his bottle towards him, so bottle and straw were mostly horizontal, and the almost full bottle of milk was quickly emptied into W's lap.

Remembering the ice cream incident, with recap provided by JE, I was reluctant to get W even a small ice cream lest he make a mess. He ate a couple of the fries and declared them delicious, and I thought we were good to go. What kid doesn't love french fries? W doesn't. He asked for a second plain Cheeseburger, yes, he'd eaten the first. With money from his mom in my pocket I figured I couldn't let the kid go hungry, so I approached the counter and ordered a second plain Cheeseburger, from a different cashier this time. Just the Cheeseburger. Not a meal, nothing complicated; one plain Cheeseburger.

Got the Cheeseburger, unwrapped it, and saw lettuce on the sides, and onion. Lifting up the lid I saw a couple of pickles, and vegies and ketchup and sauce everywhere. This was not a plain Cheeseburger.

Excuse me, I said, I ordered a plain Cheeseburger. (WTF is up with your staff today???)

Literally within seconds the cooks had slapped a cheese-covered patty inside a bun and W's second plain Cheeseburger was in my hands. Kudos to them.

Then I saw the Shift Manager ask the cashier if I'd ordered a plain Cheeseburger, and he promptly shook his head.

Guess what, pal? The Shift Manager saw the problems I had earlier trying to order a Happy Meal with a plain Cheeseburger. She knows I ordered a plain Cheeseburger this time, too. Don't lie to the man, especially if she's a woman.

I didn't humiliate the guy by making a point out of it and saying I had ordered a plain Cheeseburger, but I'm sure the Shift Manager spoke to him afterwards anyway.

I've got no problems with McDs hiring 16-year olds and paying them minimum wage and working their arses off, but I'm not going to make allowances for them. I did my time in retail and customer service and quite frankly if you can't perform, if you can't provide excellent customer service, you've got no business being there. Yeah, you're only getting minimum wage and you've got rude customers up in your face, but that's part of retail and if you can't deal with that don't get a job in customer service. I could deal with that. I was bloody good at it, but it doesn't pay the bills. That's the only reason I left. I'd still be working in retail and kissing up to you and licking your boots and I'm so good at it that you'd totally believe I was loving every second of it, if it paid the bills, but it doesn't and that's why I'm not there any longer.

I understand new people on the job need to learn the ropes. So learn the ropes, get the job done and when you mess up be man enough to say, "Yeah, he could have ordered a plain Cheeseburger. I might have missed that." There are so many people willing to kiss arse for minimum wage that to keep someone on who's not going to give 100% is just inexcusable. You're doing yourself a disservice by hiring substandard help, you're doing your current staff a disservice by teaming them up with someone who's not going to pull their weight, and you're doing your customers a disservice by having them served by someone who's not going to provide excellent customer service. If you can't stand the heat, get out of McDonalds.

I expected better from Kellerman

I'm currently reading Jonathan Kellerman's "Therapy" and while I've always enjoyed his books I can't let slide what I see as a glaring mistake.

After informing a mother of the death of her son and his "girlfriend", whose identity is unknown until provided by the grieving mother, Milo immediately drives to the residence of the "girlfriend" and tells the father that his daughter has been killed.

The problem is that there was no ID on the girl's body, nor did she get ID'd by a relative. The grieving mother was not shown a photo of the dead girl; she just assumed the "blonde" that was found with her son was the last girl she knew him to be seeing. So acting on information provided by a woman who has gone into shock, and without verifying the information first, Milo tells a man that his daughter has been killed. The father kicks Milo out of the house when the "dead" daughter walks in the backdoor.

I don't know much about law enforcement, but it seems to me that before you'd tell someone their child is dead you'd want to get a more positive ID than "Wwaaahhh! My son is dead! Boo hoo hoo! Huh? He was with a blonde girl? That must be Kelly Smith. Wwaaahhh!!! My son is dead! Boo hoo hoo!"

Milo eventually gets a photo of the dead girl to show around (and shows it to the parents of the dead boy who don't recognize her), but you'd think he would have made more of an effort to identify the dead girl first, or at least got a photo to show the father before telling him his daughter is dead.

* * *

Milo: "Mr. Smith, I'm afraid your daughter is dead."

Smith: "Oh my god. That's so quick."

Milo: "Sir?"

Smith: "I was just talking to her in the kitchen. Kelly? This nice policeman out here says you're dead."

Kelly (from kitchen): "I guess I must be, Daddy. I mean he is a policeman."

Milo: "Er...do you have...any other daughters?"

Smith: "Nope. Just the dead one."

Milo: "I gotta go. Got...stuff to do. Important...policeman stuff. You know. Bye!"
Runs out door.

Smith enters kitchen where Kelly is lying face down at the table, a large kitchen knife protrudes from her back.
Smith sits down and resumes reading his book "Ventriloquism for Dummies".

* * *

No, that's not how it went in Therapy:P

A short story

The chirping of the phone pierced his dreams and a sleep-clumsy hand moved towards the receiver. Finally he had the phone in his hands, the chirping stopped and he lay the receiver across his head.

"Hello?"

"Hi, son."

"Uh, hi, Dad."

One sleep-encrusted eyelid opened just a crack and he looked at the clock.

"Dad, it's 3am."

"I just wanted to tell you I love you."

"I love you too, Dad."

The phone was silent and he knew his Dad was gone.

Then both eyes opened and he stared at the clock. It wasn't 3am. It was 3:12am. It was 3:12am on the morning of Saturday, May 15th.

Six years ago his mother had woken up to find his father sitting on the edge of their bed. She said he'd looked at her and with tears streaming down his cheeks he'd told her something was terribly wrong, and then he'd collapsed onto the floor.

The paramedics had not been able to revive him and he was pronounced dead at the scene. Cause of death was a massive heart attack. The time of death was 3:12am, Saturday, May 15th.

As he stared at the clock the phone began chirping again. He answered it reluctantly, hesitatingly.

"Hello?"

"Hi, son."

He laughed.

"Hi, Mum. He called you, too. Didn't he?"

They talked for a while before hanging up, and then he just lay there, staring at the ceiling. He lay there for a long time before sleep finally reclaimed him. The phone never rang again.

Cruising down Mexico way

So we spent the last week on & off a cruise liner, sailing down the west coast to Cabo San Lucas, Mazatlan and Puerto Vallarta, then 2 days at sea as we sailed north back to sunny...er...dreary and overcast Los Angeles.

It was an interesting cruise, to say the least, with a 2-year old and a 6-year old in tow. JE was able to attend the Kids' Club, which meant after breakfast if we had no plans we'd drop him off at the Kids' Club clubroom then pick him up for lunch, then later drop him back there again, then pick him up for dinner, then drop him off again, then pick him up in time for bed. Our little cherub of a daughter, falling into the "less-than-three" age bracket, stayed with us for almost the entire cruise until Liz mentioned she'd seen something about a baby sitting service. We made some inquiries and discovered that for the incredibly low price of $8 per hour we could have a sitter watch our treasure while Liz and I had some quality time, without the kids. I ask you, why did we only find out about that at the end of the week-long cruise?

JE and I took part in several activities, including frequent trips to the pool. We also took part in a bean bag tossing competition (which I won, scoring a Gold Medal shaped like the Royal Caribbean logo, which I gave to JE). We also played a few games of Shuffleboard, or at least pushed the pucks from one end to the other. Oddly enough the cruise ship also had a 30' rock climbing wall, which JE climbed to a height of 6' before wanting down...NOW!



Later on I took part in a speed climbing competition against 3 other men, and I'm happy to say that with a combined time of 25sec for two climbs I took home the silver medal.


The winner's time was 22sec (give or take a few 1/10s of a second). The record for the single fastest climb to the top is 5 seconds, but that record is held by the Head Climbing Instructor. The guest record is 6 seconds :P

Oddly enough the Head Climbing Instructor is from Perth, in Western Australia. He told me to track down one of the dealers in the casino who he said was from Victoria, my home state. At the casino when I asked the female Pitboss if Dave was working I discovered I was talking to yet another Aussie, a Queenslander, and found that Dave is not from Victoria but from New South Wales, from a tiny town called Tathra, to be specific. The significance of this is two-fold. The population of Tathra is approximately 10% of that of my own hometown of Traralgon; we're talking real "small town" here. And two, Tathra just happens to be where my family used to holiday many, many years ago. In fact Dave said of all the Aussies he's met on the cruise ship, more Victorians know of Tathra than do his fellow New South Welshmen. Dave was manning the Craps table when I met him, and it was a happening place. I was so caught up in what was going on that I wanted to play, even though I had no clue what was going on. I resisted the urge though, but I think I'd like to play Craps one day. It seems a lot more fun than feeding quarters into a slot machine.

Also interesting to note was that of the staff on board the ship and the many nationalities that were represented, while North Americans (Canadians excluded) made up a majority of the passengers, I do not recall seeing a single North American working. There were Canadians, and Central and South Americans, there were Europeans and Asians, people from all over the globe...but nobody from North America. Apparently most people sign on for a 6-month contract, and that means six months of non-stop dedication to the ship and company. Not to speak ill of my fellow (adopted) countrymen, but it does seem as though Americans can't hack life on board a cruise ship.

Now our waiters were some of the most attentive staff I've ever had the pleasure of being served by, if not THE best. When we turned up for dinner on the second night we had a high chair in Amber's seat, and it was there waiting for us every night after that. Dixon and Johnee also memorized the kids' likes and dislikes, as well as our own bread and dessert preferences, too ;)

While expensive to get away for a week, when you work out that accommodation, food and most on-board activities are included (bar gambling, of course), the price of a cruise is actually reasonably cheap compared to staying in a 5-star hotel for the same period of time. After all, at the hotel you still need to pay for your meals, then you need to get out and about and have a good time. On a cruise ship there's a couple of shows each night and activities during the day, and the service! One night I even rocked up to the Main Dining room at 10pm just as they were shutting down and within minutes (literallly) I was leaving with two plates of food; one with a hotdog & fries, and one with a cheeseburger & fries. Midnight snacks! Yeah, baby!

So we had a great time, but we're glad to be back, too :)

More photos can be seen at Liz's Flicker Site.